


Coma

by TheWholeDamnTime



Series: Coma Universe [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coma, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWholeDamnTime/pseuds/TheWholeDamnTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of Fitz's time in a coma and how the team handles it, through Skye's eyes. Four chapters total and a second co-dependent story in the works (currently also four chapters). Comments and constructive criticism greatly appreciated, and thank you for reading! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Skye watched as Jemma ran her fingers over the crisp white bed sheet, smoothing minuscule wrinkles from the fabric. It had been weeks since the accident, but ever since she had boarded the BUS, the scientist had been distracted, always moving in silence and returning to Fitz's room when her tasks were complete. 

"Hey." The hacker casually leaned against the door, eyes cast over the biochemist huddling in her partner's bunk.

"Oh, hello, Skye," she greeted her in a numb, detached voice. Eyes slightly glazed, they focused on the hacker for a moment before staring into nothing once more.

"How're you holding up?" 

"Fine," came the automatic answer, dull and lifeless as her eyes. Concern knotted the hacker's brow as she settled next to Simmons. Even when working and doing the things she loved, the biochemist had seemed dazed, almost numb to the world around her. 

"Be honest. Your other half is missing. Are you holding up okay?" Internally, she cringed at her own words. Maybe frankness wasn't the way to go, but Skye knew no other way. Jemma let out a long breath.

"I'm holding up well enough to function. I've been monitoring my vitals as well as everyone on the plane's, and I'm just fine." A snort escaped the hacker before she could help herself.

"Simmons, that's all well and good, but I'm asking how _you_ are holding up. Spiritual energy and chakra and all that crap," the hacker rattled off. 

"I'm..." Her voice trailed off. "I... I'm not sure." Another few moments passed and in a horrible, cracked, broken voice, Jemma croaked out, "Please go."

Skye did.

Weeks became months and there were no calls. Fitz was stable, no more, no less. Simmons, on the other hand, was on a slow decline. She had started to disregard her own health, skipping meals and spending so much time in the lab she would occasionally fall asleep standing up. Skye, Trip, and sometimes May would find her in a crumpled heap in the lab and carry her to Fitz's room before continuing with their workouts. After one such morning, the resident hacker settled in the doorway and watched as the biochemist woke, sitting upright and rubbing her eyes.

"Hey," Skye whispered, leaning against the doorframe. The slightest inclination of the head was the only sign that Simmons had heard. "You okay?" The scientist looked up, blinking. 

"Oh, me? Yes, I'm fine. I'm..." Her voice trailed off. 

"You're a horrible liar." Skye went to sit next to her on the bed. "Do you want to talk?" A tiny shake of the head was her response. Quietly, not taking her eyes from the floor, the scientist reached over and pulled her partner's pillow into her arms and hugged it, chin resting on the softness. 

"It'll... I'm sure..." The hacker struggled for something to say, but nothing felt right on her tongue. Promising that it would all turn out in the end was too likely to be a lie, but she wasn't sure what else would be an adequate condolence. "This sucks," she managed. A listless, empty-eyed nod responded.

"Yeah." Silence fell between the two of them. Skye fiddled with the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing and smoothing the rough edges. The quiet draped over them like a blanket, smothering and choking. Awkward and uncertain of what else she could offer, she started to stand.

"Well, I'm going to-" the hacker was cut off by a choked noise and a light hand on her wrist.

"Skye-" It was then that the scientist started crying in earnest. Tears ran tracks from her cheeks to the pillow. Settling down again, Skye wrapped an arm around her friend's back. It started with soft whimpering sounds and small tear tracks, but slowly intensified as bottle emotions began to leak. Sobs echoed around the room as Simmons finally broke down, clutching the pillow of her missing partner. Skye murmured soft comforts, simply going along with the flow of things. It hurt to contain things for too long, as she knew. She still mourned the old Ward most nights, alone. She watched Triplett glance in, see the situation, and gently slide the door closed. Practically screaming silent thanks to him in her head, Skye returned to gently running her hand over Simmons's back, giving her quiet comfort as the scientist's body was wrecked with heaving, choking sobs. 

"He-he t-t-told m-m-me that I-I-I-" a choked sob ripped through the sentence, "t-t-that he l-l-loved m-m-m-" Jemma's voice disappeared in a fresh wave of tears as the hacker stared in shock. Fitz had _what?!_  After a moment of thought, the only word that Skye could conceive was _finally_. Too bad Ward was gone, he now owed her ten bucks and a day off from training. _Maybe they still allow cash in the Fridge._ Thinking like that stabbed painfully at her gut, so she tucked the thought away for later. 

"Shhh..." the hacker murmured softly. "It's okay. To be honest, I saw this one coming from miles away." The sobs increased and Skye cursed her blatant nature. "Shhh..." she tried again. _Maybe I should just stop talking._

"And I-I-I think I l-l-love h-h-him, t-t-too..." finished the weeping girl. _Damn, now he owes me twenty._

"Yeah, Simmons?" Still sniffling, the biochemist glanced up. "I have _never_ seen people as close a you two. If you guys weren't in love, I don't know a couple who is." The hacker's face suddenly scrunched up, and after a moment she stood. "You know what I'm gonna do?" Jemma shook her head slowly, wiping her eyes with one hand. "I'm going to go get May to turn this stupid plane around. I'll be damned if Fitz wakes up without you by his bedside."


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours later, the BUS settled at the playground and Skye thanked her lucky stars that Coulson was a hopeless romantic. Simmons was almost instantaneously out of the aircraft and heading towards the med bay, jaw set and a determined look on her face. Koenig stared as she walked past him with no acknowledgement or recognition and entered the base.

"Geez, what's up with her?"

"She's had a rough couple of months without her partner," explained Coulson as the team followed their scientist inside.

Skye found Simmons sitting next to Fitz's still form, her fingers restlessly smoothing the corner of the sheet. "You know you can touch him, right? He's not dead." She nodded slightly, reaching out and pulling his hand to where she could wrap it in hers. Skye rested in the doorway for a few moments longer before continuing to her room. Coulson had decided that the team would rest for at least another week, maybe two, before heading out again, justifying it with the idea that his team needed rest. Everyone else knew the real reason why, but continued under his pretenses. 

On the third day of their rest, Skye spotted Triplett sitting with Simmons in the med room. Quietly standing out of view, she listened and heard, "Call me Ishmael." Sticking her head around the corner now, she took in the scene before her. Jemma was still sitting by Fitz's bedside, hands tangled with her partner's, and Triplett was reading the first chapter of Moby Dick. Making a light noise to announce her presence, she settled into the doorway. Pausing, Triplett welcomed her and asked if she'd like him to start from the beginning so they were all on the same page.

"No, thanks. What're you doing?"

"I read somewhere that speaking to a coma patient helps, so we're trying it out," answered Simmons in the most normal voice she had heard since prior to the accident. Skye smiled and settled in the doorway to listen. 

"Well, read on, then."

On the seventh day, Skye was passing the med bay on the way to bed. It was late, almost midnight, and yet she heard a voice coming from Fitz's room. Soft, quiet words interrupted by light sniffles and choked noises. The door was cracked open just a touch, and the words floated on the cool air to where Skye stood.

"And then Director Fury came and got us. You saved us, Fitz, with that beacon. If you hadn't-" A light sob choked the scientist's words. Getting a handle on herself, Jemma continued, "I wish you would- you would wake up so I could thank you. P-p-please, Leo. I n-n-need you to come b-b-back to me."  Not wanting to eavesdrop any more, the hacker quietly closed the door and continued on her way.

Ten days into their stay, Skye was seriously worried for her friend. Simmons was staying up for days on end by Fitz's bedside, only falling asleep after her eyes could stay open no longer. The former hacktivist decided to take measures into her own hands. Quietly crushing sleeping pills into Jemma's dinner, she brought the meal to the mourning girl. Thanking her good fortune (and May's good cooking) that she didn't taste the pills, she rearranged her sleeping friend into a more comfortable position, making sure to leave their hands intertwined. 

Twelve days in, Skye glanced at the medical charts to find that they had reached the three-month point. Jemma had been successfully drugged for the night and dragged back to an adjacent room by a rather brotherly Triplett, who had read to the two of them until the drugs had kicked in. The hacker entered the room quietly, mentally shaming herself for instinctively acting as though she was trying not to wake him.

"Fitz," she started off, awkwardly wondering _how do you talk to a coma patient?_  

"Fitz, it's been three months since you... Well, since you saved Simmons down there. And gave yourself up, you freaking _idiot_. And if you couldn't tell by how often she's down here crying, she's not exactly okay." Skye took a deep, shuddering breath. Loads of emotion built up inside of her chest, undecidedly angry, frustrated, and sad all at once. "Dammit, Fitz, we need you to come back. Jemma needs you back. May, Coulson, hell, even Triplett wants you back. We're- we're a family here, and you're my stupid big brother and I want you back here." Her voice cracked and throat ached, a hand brushing away at watery eyes. "Now would be nice," she croaked, smiling a bit. 

And for a moment, she waited for a miracle. 

For hours, she waited for a miracle. 

But none came. And so trudging back to her bunk, she collapsed into her pillow, crying for Fitz, for the old Ward, and for everything that had happened since that awful day that Hydra had sprung from the shadows of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was fourteen days into their rest period, and Coulson was forced to pull his team back out into the field. Simmons had to force herself to leave, whispering small goodbyes and promises to her comatose partner as she slowly detangled their fingers. Once back on the BUS, she cleaned up and returned to Fitz's bunk. Immediately, Skye went to go talk to Coulson. 

"How long's this mission?" Staring at the screens in the debrief room, the new director glanced her way before resuming his watch. "Woah." The main screen was Fitz, the surrounding ones reporting on vitals and a list of current treatments. 

"It's an estimated six week mission. We'll have Jemma back to her partner as soon as it's over." 

"Woah," Skye repeated. 

"Like it, huh? I was going to show Simmons, but, we, um, need the room..." 

"Yeah, got it, AC. Or is it DC now? _Heeeey,_ AC/DC!"

"Oh no."

"Remind me to play some awesome rock music on your birthday."

"Skye." 

"Wait, when _is_ your birthday?" 

" _Skye_." 

"Fine. But seriously, can we have someone watching Simmons at all times?" Coulson shook his head with a sigh.

"We're all too busy for that. We can keep an eye on her, but beyond that, I'm not sure what else we could do." Skye nodded slowly, staring at Fitz on the screen. The heart monitor beeped its steady rhythm as she twisted the hem of her shirt in anxious fingers.

"... Do you think he-"

"Don't. Don't think like that," the director said in a voice that spoke only of finality, turning on his heel and leaving the speechless hacker watching their colleague suffer on screen.

Skye worked with new purpose. Every spare second of free time she could grasp was filled with research and data collection. Six weeks blew by for her, filled with nothing but work and sleep. Finally, when the BUS touched ground again, she followed Jemma to the med bay with her arms full of seemingly random items.

"Simmons," she proclaimed, stepping inside Fitz's room, "we _are_ going to wake up your idiot this time around."

Slowly, she went through her list. Simmons's perfume and Fitz's cologne for olfactory stimulation. The music off of Fitz's iTunes playlist labeled "Jemma" and three different seasons of Doctor Who for audio stimulation. Some buffalo mozzarella and prosciutto sandwiches with pesto aioli for her and Simmons's lunch (she wasn't sure what the hell they would do, but hey, anything was worth a shot, right?). 

Simmons smiled, a small, tiny smile, but one nonetheless. Together, the two girls set up the room with the music programmed to play for approximately ten minutes in between the randomly cycling episodes of his favorite television show and the scents spritzed once on each side of the pillow. Skye grinned and held out the final touch- Fitz's hovering T.A.R.D.I.S., stolen from his room on the BUS. Jemma placed it on the adjacent counter and the room was complete. Settling down in the pair of seats the team had erected over various hospital visits, they watched a few episodes of Doctor Who and then let the programmed system run. Feeling mildly satisfied with her efforts, Skye slept well that night, leaving Jemma sleeping half in her chair and half on Fitz's bed, hands twined together and pressed to her cheek. 

Nothing major changed as the days wore on. Much of their work thankfully took place within the secret base, letting Jemma spend all her spare moments by her partner. Trips would last up to a week, and then things would go back to normal. Skye would train with Trip and May, then do whatever hacking the team required. May could be found meditating at nearly all hours of the day. AC/DC was slowly rebuilding S.H.I.E.L.D. Simmons would complete her work and return to her partner's bedside. 

Things stayed the same for weeks, then months. 

When Fitz hit the six month mark, Skye found Jemma sobbing in his hospital room. She was trying to stutter out words, but thick tears and a breaking voice made them incomprehensible. Quietly, the hacker slid into the room and sat down next to her. Wrapping her in a hug, she let the biochemist wet her shoulder with tears and even let a few of her own go. 

The two girls cried together until Simmons fell asleep again, collapsed on the hospital bed, and Skye left, only stopping to whisper, "Fitz, why can't you just _wake up?_ "

Ever restless, time moved on. Jemma's state deteriorated further, the hollows under her eyes and cheekbones growing. Her hair was thrown back in a tangled mess on the best of days and she hardly took care of herself, spending every spare moment at Fitz's bedside. The team was growing increasingly worried for her. Coulson took her off duties for a long term period, only bringing her in when absolutely necessary. Skye, Triplett, and May began offering to take shifts at his bedside so Jemma could go clean up or get some proper rest. It was only after ages of prying that Skye was able to get the biochemist to take her up on her offer. Yawning, she settled by Fitz's bedside and promised Jemma that she would call her if anything changed at _all_. Settling into a contented stupor, her eyes grew fixed to the television, watching Sally Sparrow save both herself and the Doctor from the dreaded weeping angels. Suddenly, a monitor started beeping like mad.

" _Simmons!_ " screamed Skye, sending the biochemist sprinting into the room. Grabbing Fitz's hands in her own, the biochemist glanced at the monitor, and then at her partner.

"Come on, Leo, _please_ ," she begged. Suddenly, the engineer started awake, ripping his hands from Jemma's and grabbing at the armrests of the hospital bed. His breathing was rough and ragged, but he seemed to slowly calm himself a he glanced around the room.

"Fitz," choked out Jemma, placing her hands on one of his, eyes brimming with emotion. As Fitz's gaze traveled to his partner, something struck a wrong cord in Skye. Something that screamed danger like a ticking bomb.

"I'm sorry..." he said slowly, "but who are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Skye gasped as if all the air in the room had disappeared as she jolted herself from the nightmare. Fitz was just the same as before, vitals still steady and body as limp and comatose as he had been for the past six and a half months.

Skye wasn't sure whether she was more disappointed or relieved.

When Simmons came back from her shower, they sat together by the comatose patient. The hacker insisted on braiding her friend's hair, mentally reassuring herself that doing so would keep the biochemist from becoming so disheveled again. Spritzing the cologne and perfume once more into the air, she left FitzSimmons alone.

The seven month mark was reached with a sinking feeling in Skye's gut. Things were starting to look hopeless to her. They had tried every method that she could think of and nothing had changed except for a slight decline in the engineer's vitals. The team now treaded carefully around Jemma, watching her with weary eyes. She, too, had declined once more, looking too thin and frail as a china doll. Her hands shook when not clasped around something. Coulson had come up with a schedule for the team, setting one person to watch her per day. If they were absent or busy, they could trade with Koenig, who was always at the base, or someone who was free. Even though Koenig seemed to take more shifts than the rest of them combined, the system seemed to work and he seemed rather amiable about it. When asked to take over for someone, he would jokingly claim, "Well, not like I have anything better to do!"

Triplett was on his third book now, the first of the Harry Potter series. Every free day, he would read another chapter or three. May sat, silent and still by the bedside, occasionally meditating or performing Tai Chi. Once, Skye found her burning incense in the room.

The hacker had a different method of coping. Every day she could, the team would find her dropping in for an hour or two. In her own animated fashion, she would update Fitz on whatever had been going on, from the major missions and events to petty happenings around the base. Jemma was almost always present. The only times that she left his side were the occasions that Skye drugged her and Triplett carried her into the next room over.

Seven months, two weeks, and four days since the accident, Skye was visiting the engineer. The hacker had managed to convince Jemma to go clean up again, telling her Fitz would be disappointed if she let herself go like that. Once the scientist was clear, she had settled in and started to narrate the team's activities.

"The past few days were crazy. We finally stopped that Hydra branch operating out of the Sandbox. Simmons released the Chiutari virus into the electrical system and Trip cut some wires so the electrician would come to check it out. It took five days for the entire base to get wiped out. Your partner was amazing. She made sure to immunize all of our own operatives before they went in to clear the place. The Sandbox is finally clear and we retook it for S.H.I.E.L.D., isn't that great, Fi-" Suddenly, a monitor started beeping.

" _Simmons!_  " screamed Skye. The sound of the shower instantly cut out and in a few moments, a sloppily dressed scientist with her hair up in a towel sprinted through the door. Immediately, she grabbed her partner's hands and looked at the beeping monitor.

"Come on, Fitz, come back to me, come on, Leo, please,  _please_  come back to me-" Skye sucked in a breath.  _Is this another dream?_  Something sunk in the pit of her belly.  _Please let Fitz remember. Please,_  she found herself praying to every god and goddess she could think of off the top of her head. Jemma was rubbing his hands, as if trying to get the feeling back into them. Suddenly, Fitz's hand tensed around his partner's and he sucked in a fast breath.

Skye nearly passed out from a mixture of relief and fear that engulfed her as his eyes shot open. Panicked, they swept the room, landing on the T.A.R.D.I.S., Skye, and...

"Jemma," he croaked, voice rusty from disuse. The fear slipped away and tears of relief sparkled in the hacker's eyes. "Jem- Jemma what's- how- wait, no- are you o-"

"Seven months!" cried Simmons, interrupting him. "Seven months, Leopold Fitz, and all you can do is ask if  _I'm_  okay? You-" In a sudden flood, her voice broke off and she wept, holding his hands to her lips.

"You were in a coma, you big idiot," said Skye, attempting to relieve his scrunched brow. "How much do you remember?"

"Not... Not tha' much. Everythin's a bi'... spotty," he replied, hesitation making his words halted and choppy. Gratefully taking a glass of water from Skye, he took a small sip with shaking hands. "Jemma, it's okay," he said, the hoarseness of his voice eased by the cool liquid. He lightly squeezed her hand. "Jemma, 'm fine now." His partner took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Okay, well, how-how do you feel? Can you move everything? How far do the spots in your memory go?" Still holding onto Leo's hand, she stood and began to go back into doctor mode, reading machines and checking vitals. As she worked, Fitz started going through a systems check. He began to test out his head, neck, then arms and hands. Slowly, he leaned forward and back again. Once he reached his legs, though, his brow scrunched up. No movement came from under the sheets.

"Simmons," Skye said, urgency in her voice. Jemma spun around in alarm.

"I-I can' seem ta' move- ta' move m' legs," he explained, brow still knotted in concentration.

Immediately, the biochemist dropped his hand and went to the end of the bed. Gently massaging his feet, she quipped, "Can you feel this?" Once he answered in the affirmative, she let out a sigh of relief and let her hands drop.

"It's okay. The lack of oxygen made your brain forget how to move your legs. We'll get you in a wheelchair at first, then some physical therapy. You'll be fine," she promised. Returning to her chair, she asked, "What about your memory?" Skye bit her lip.  _If he remembers his confession..._

"I'll go tell the others that he's awake!" she quipped, slipping out of the room as quickly as possible. Sprinting into the living room, she yelled, "Fitz is up!" Immediately, Triplett and Coulson were up and spewing questions and May was standing in the doorway of the cockpit.

"Yes, he's okay, no, he remembers some stuff, just  _let me get a word in!_ " she cried. The two men quieted down and she was able to explain.

"He's awake, has some spots in his memory, and can't remember how to move his legs. Simmons says at first a wheelchair and then physical therapy should help. And I'm just saying, stay  _out_  of that room until I give the all clear, because one way or another, there is going to be an emotion volcano," she finished breathlessly.

"Emotion... volcano?" asked Coulson.

"Don't ask."

"Just tell us when we can come in," he replied, the look in his eyes screaming  _hopeless romantic_. Rolling her own, Skye returned to outside the med door, listening in.

"-all you remember?"

"Jus' 'bout, yeah. 'N th' feeling o' water afterwards." A long pause ensued. "Jemma?"

"It's nothing, Fitz. I'll go tell the others they can come in now." A quick pause, then "I'm so glad you're awake."

Before a proper response could even be formulated, Simmons was rushing out of the room, nearly clear into Skye.

"So? How bad is it?" A single look at the scientist's tear-filled eyes was all the answer needed, but she got a verbal response nonetheless.

"The closer to present day his memory gets, the spottier it is. There's a blank where the Lorelai incident was, but he remembers most of it. Some of the mission to rescue Coulson, but it's blurry. When he found your message about Ward is really the only thing that's crystal clear from the next week. He remembers up to shorting out the electrical system on the plane. Then water, and the sensation of drowning. And then he wakes up."

"He doesn't remember what happened ninety feet under," Skye said, blurting out the only sentence she could fathom.

"No," the scientist croaked. "I don't know what to tell him..." Her voice trailed off, and Skye glance at the ground, not sure of what to say. "Tell the team they can go visit. I'm going to- to go rest." The beginnings of tears in her eyes, Jemma rushed to her room and slid the door shut behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Jemma presented her partner with a wheelchair. After helping him into it and depositing him in the bathroom, they left him to clean up. Skye glanced at Simmons, concern lacing her expression.

"What's wrong?" The scientist glance up, startled. Seeing the look on her friend's face, though, her defensive expression softened and she spoke low, so no one but the hacker would hear.

"I'm worried he'll figure out I'm hiding something. I can't lie, and of all people to keep something from..." Skye nodded slowly. To her, it didn't seem so much a question of  _if_ , but  _when_.

"Maybe you should talk to him about it. Have a memory session or something. Someone's gonna let something small slip about under there, and then he'll want to know everything. Better on your terms than hi-"

"Simmons, how do ya' work thi' damn thing?" came a voice from the other side of the door, effectively cutting her off.

"Are you decent?"

"Yeah."

"Coming in," she replied, shooting Skye a meaningful look and leaving her in the hall.

Simmons still insisted that Fitz sleep in the med bay, but spent the night in her own bunk for the first time in months. The hacker visited him that night after passing to get a glass of water. They chatted about the going-ons of the team while he was out and how the team was faring overall.

"So what's up with Simmons?" he asked softly during a lull in the conversation.

"Wh-what?"  _Please let that sound sincere_.

"You're worse th'n Simmons."  _Damn_.

"She- well- I- crap," she stuttered. "You know, I would have bet money on three days. Not one. Damn, you're good."

"We've lived together since we were fifteen, I'd think I'd know if she was hiding something," he muttered. Picking up some metal bits and pieces from beside his bed, the engineer began to fiddle and tinker with them.

"Fifteen? Wow, did you know each other as kids or something?" Folding her hands in her lap, she leaned in on her elbows.

"We both went to college early. Made sense t' bunk together as well," he explained. "You're diverting th' topic, though. What's wrong wi' Jemma?" Skye let out a long-drawn sigh.  _One freakin' day!_

"I can't tell you. You have to talk to her yourself." As Fitz's brow furrowed, she asked, "Do you want me to go get her?"

"No... I'll go talk t' her m'self," he muttered. "Help me into thi' confounded chair?" Moving to help him, Skye paused.

"You sure? Now? It's almost midnight."

"Yes, now," he grunted, trying to move into the chair on his own and nearly falling.

"Jesus! Okay, fine, fine. Here." Once settled, he started wheeling towards the door. "Woah there, tiger. I'll wheel you. What's up with the urgency?"

"She hasn' tried t keep anythin' from me since SciOps," he muttered, leaning back and letting The hacker take the wheel. "If she's tryin' 'gain now, it has t' be drastic."  _It is._

"Okay, well, I'll leave you here. I had no part in this, okay?" Immediately, she slipped into the next bunk over, dead set on eavesdropping. Blinking rapidly, Triplett shot up and grumbled something unintelligible. "Shhh!" Skye hissed, lowering her voice to a whisper. "FitzSimmons is going to be confessing love soon, and I wanna hear!" Mumbling something about "huge gossip" and "personal shenanigans", he flopped over in bed again, clearly indifferent to her presence.

"Jemma?" called Fitz's voice.

"Fitz." The door creaked open. "Fitz, what on earth are you doing out of bed? You need rest-"

"I think I've got enough. Seven months sound enough t' ya'?"

" _Fitz_. "

"I just needed t' talk t' you."

"... Okay..."

"There's somethin' wrong, isn' there? You ca' tell me, y' know, it's-"

"Nothing's wrong, Fitz, it's just-"

"-'n I'll do whatever I can t' fix it, but I can tell by th' way y' look a' m-

"-not to mention stress from the past couple of months and the relief of you-"

"-also, you're avoiding th' subject matter as we speak, y' know-"

"-alongside the facts that it's been wearing on me and perhaps the water got to your head because I'm not-"

"-not t' mention, you're absolute shite at lying, so I c'n tell-"

"-and there is no way that I would hold something against you, especially not when-"

"-fifteen years old, so I  _should_  be able t' tell-"

"-so everything's  _fine_."

"-so y' should just tell me what's wrong." Silence ensued and Skye pressed her ear harder into the wall, straining to hear anything.

"Jemma, I just-"

"No, Fitz, not tonight," Jemma snapped, then stopped. In a softer voice, she continued, "I'm sorry, but I can't do this tonight. It's just- no, not now. I'll-we'll talk tomorrow, okay? I promise. Tomorrow, after dinner, in the- in the living room, yeah?" A pause. "I'm sorry, Fitz. But tomorrow. I promise." One more pause. "Do you need me to wheel you back?"

"No."

"Okay... Well... goodnight." Door closed. Immediately, Skye was outside, Trip muttering something about "close the damn door". Giving a gentle smile and a shrug to the engineer, she grabbed the handles and began to push him back to the med wing.

"Well tha' wen' well," he muttered half-way back to his room.

"You got somewhere, right? Tomorrow, after dinner, living room. That's something, you know."

"You heard tha' entire thing, didn' ya'?" The hacker shrugged, though she knew he couldn't see.

"Pretty much." She watched as his grip tightened around the armrests.

"I just don't  _understan'_  it. She's never kept anythin' from me.  _Never_ ," he growled in frustration.

"It'll probably all be cleared up tomorrow, so don't you worry your pretty little head," she joked, wheeling him through the doorway. Slowly, they heaved him into his bed and slid the covers over him. As she turned to flick off the light switch, something passed over Fitz's face.

"Y' know, don' you?" Skye swallowed hard.  _Oh shit._

"Sorry," she sighed, "these lips are sealed." A smile springing on her face, she teasingly called, "Nighty-night, Fitzy!" and closed the door, heading off into her room for some well-deserved rest.

When Skye entered the kitchen the next morning, the tension hit her like a brick to the face. FitzSimmons was eating breakfast, but the rest of the team was strangely absent. A note on the fridge explained, reading  _Covert Ops Mission: Director Coulson and Agents May and Triplett. If not back in five days, use encrypted line in the office to call 638-2037_. Turning back to the table, the hacker watched the two pointedly not look at each other, even though their actions in doing so were in near-perfect synchronization; lean on the inside elbow, glance away, take a bite of food, swallow, repeat. Rolling her eyes, she poured herself a bowl of cereal and headed to a spot next to Simmons. After a while, the silence grew uncomfortable and she began to shift in her seat.

"So, uh, what are you guys doing today?" she tried, but even to her own ears it sounded weak.

"Recalibration of the D.W.A.R.F.s, then systems check of the new lab here." Simmons seemed to answer for the two of them, as Fitz didn't speak. Silence fell again, but the hacker had had enough.

"Okay, that's it. You two need to talk. Now. Waiting until later tonight was just to avoid people, and half the team's gone anyways, so you guys might as well get this horrible awkwardness out of the way so you can get back to FitzSimmons-ing and your whole science-y thing. I'm leaving, you two talk, kapiche? Kapiche." Grabbing her bowl, she dropped it into the sink and walked out.

And straight into the security room. Pulling up the screen tracking FitzSimmons, she leaned back in the poofy chair and turned up the volume. No way she was missing this.

"... Do you think she actually left?" asked Jemma in a quiet voice.

"Are y' kiddin'?"

"Point taken." Their meal complete, Simmons stood and took both plates to the sink while Fitz turned his chair around and headed for the lab. As his partner moved to follow him, Skye switched screens.

The engineer was opening the box with the D.W.A.R.F.s on his lap, the tables too tall for his wheelchair. The biochemist continued into the room and began to boot up a computes, plugging in the cords connected to the tiny bots.  _Nothing special thus far._

An hour of silent working later, the work slowed down to a stop as they waited for Fitz's creations to copy the new code.

"Jemma." The girl glanced up, startled by the sudden noise. "Maybe we should talk... y' know, now." With a light sigh, the scientist put down the test tube she had been fiddling with.

"Bloody hell, why am I so bad at lying?" she murmured, almost to herself.

"Please, Jemma. I need t' know what I did t' y'."

"Oh, Fitz..." Simmons whispered in a broken voice. "You didn't-no, it's not your-oh, bugger." Letting out a huff of air, she settled on a chair and moved so that she was facing her partner. "Well, let's see. After you hit the device, things essentially... went insane. While they were distracted, we ran. We made it pretty far before Ward caught up, and- we- well, we- well..." Catching herself stuttering, the biochemist stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "We locked ourselves in one of the storage closets. And Ward, well, he saw the panel... He-he locked us in there, Fitz, and dropped us. He... he ignored our pleas and dropped us into the ocean, and we hit the water- hard. When I woke up, you had a broken arm, broken in the same place you broke it as a child. We were both a little beaten and bruised, but nothing too bad. The only issue was... We were ninety feet down, with no one looking for us, and nothing to break bullet-proof glass. You had rigged a signal to go out, but it was on a S.H.I.E.L.D. frequency. No one was listening. We sat there for a while, wondering what death was like, until we realized we could ignite the seal holding the glass with the medical equipment in storage. And so we got all set up. You showed me what-what you h-had rigged, t-to give me a breath of-of air." Slowly, she was dissolving, stumbling over her own words in just remembering. "There was no breath for- for you, and I, well, I told you n-no, you're m-my-my best friend in the world and you-you told me-"

"You're more than that," Fitz whispered, almost in a trance, eyes wide. Jemma let out a choked noise of agreement and nodded, not trusting her words.

"And- and you hit that button, and I thought I lost you, Fitz. It was- it was horrible."

"Oh, Jemma, I'm so-" Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Jemma, I didn't want to mess anything up, I- I just didn't think I'd have any other chance to say it. I didn't want to go without telling you. Oh, god, I'm so sorry. We-we can go back to what we were before, I promise. If you want to, that is. If you want to get away from me, I completely-"

"Leopold Fitz," said Simmons in a surprisingly strong voice, "if- if you think I don't l-l-love you right back, you are either blind o-or delusional."

Though his mouth stayed closed, the engineer's face went entirely slack in shock. Jemma took a deep breath and wiped away the pools gathering i her eyes. "Fitz?"

"Oh, Jemma," he said softly, smiling. Gently, he picked up her hands and kissed her on the forehead. She smiled a small, warm smile and let her head rest on his shoulder. They stayed like that, holding on to each other and reminding themselves the other was there until Skye left the security room.

Dinner was a much more comfortable affair. FitzSimmons was much more at ease, talking and laughing together. Skye felt a warm feeling of satisfaction and contentment settle into her chest and make a home there.

She could only hope it'd stay.

Three days later, Skye found FitzSimmons curled up together on the couch, Jemma wrapped in her partner's arms and their legs tangled together.

And something inside her reassured her it would.


End file.
